I don’t normally do the “sharing my dreams with the world” thing, not least because I generally don’t remember them. But for the last week, I’ve been having what I can only describe as a continuing dream, and a really vivid one. I’m sitting crosslegged in front of a low coffee table in the flat I lived in until I was ten. Someone is sitting opposite me – I have no idea who they are, but we’ve been having a conversation about life the universe and everything, over the last week. Over the course of this discussion, we have, from time to time, left the table to pop back into my memories and also into a few things that haven’t happened, but it really isn’t hard to see how they might have, or what the particular set of feelings that inspire the fiction are. Generally, the point is to explain what I did wrong at that time/would have done wrong – not always, but generally.
Every night, the dream more or less picks up where it left off the previous night. I’m really not sure what I’ve done to mean that my subconcious is giving me this kicking/sage advice in such a peculiar way, or why it’s such a miserable bastard. (Shut up, the lot of you – I am not miserable, and not generally a bastard. I am a happy and nice person. If you disagree, I will have you eaten by trained squirrels.)
Last night’s particular gem (the gist at least):
“No-one ever promised you that you’d get anything you want. If get even one thing, consider it a bonus that’ll last for a short while and enjoy it. You’re not alive to be happy. You’re alive to be alive. Anything else is your own idea, and means fuck-all. Being unhappy about the nature of life is completely pointless, and the sign of someone who hasn’t grown up yet.”
I’m hoping to talk to a more upbeat bit of my subconcious tonight, because while I can’t disagree with that lot, I like to start my day with a little less bleak reality than that. I’m really not ready for stark existential horror until I’ve had a coffee.
In other news, I’ve been meaning to mention Flipron, a band I caught quite by chance at Glastonbury. I’m listening to their album “Fancy Blues and Rustique Novelties”. Their website has a review that describes them as “easy listening for the uneasy”. They’re like hawaiian music gone strange in places, weird little Tim Burton-esque bits of song. Ace.